


breath of life

by shewhoisntnamed44



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Happy Ending, M/M, ft Andrew's self destructive tendencies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:13:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24742111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewhoisntnamed44/pseuds/shewhoisntnamed44
Summary: "Okay," Neil says then and of all things, of all fucking things, that is the word which pierces Andrew's armour, which makes him feel like he's lost, stranded and there's no one around for miles.Neil's easy acceptance makes him realise that he wanted him to say anything else.As soon as he processes the thought, he shuts it out.He turns around and lights a cigarette, the door shuts quietly as Neil leaves and Andrew's never felt so alone.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 4
Kudos: 188





	breath of life

_"I was looking for a breath of life_  
_A little touch of heavenly light_  
_But all the choirs in my head sang no."_

_-Breath of Life, Florence + the Machine._

Andrew can't stop falling. Everytime he looks at Neil there's a drop in the pit of his stomach, a stutter in his heart which reminds him he's human. An urge which runs through his veins, wanting to reach out and touch Neil's face, his fingers, his neck. He _feels_ and he hates it. 

It happens again when they're on the roof. Neil is simply sitting there and Andrew feels like he's going down, down, _down_. Neil snatches the cigarette from his hand.   
"You're staring," he says, looking straight ahead.   
Andrew has no response. Neil turns towards him, blows smoke in his face.   
"I'm going to push you down," he says, hating the subtle hitch in his breath.  
"Try it," Neil says, eyes bright, mouth lifted in a dangerous challenge.  
And he can't resist anymore, can't hold on to the control he's spent years building all because Neil Josten is looking at him like that.  
"Yes or no?" he asks.   
Then there's a softness to Neil's eyes and his smile becomes less sharp.   
"Yes," he says and leans in.   
When his lips touch Andrew's, he stops falling. 

It is inevitable that this will end, Andrew tells himself everyday. He tries to dig up the courage to do it, to tell Neil to leave him alone but everytime he thinks he's going to say it Neil opens his mouth and Andrew is intrigued all over again.   
He feels time slipping through his fingers like sand and he doesn't know how they went from being "nothing" to _this_. This quiet understanding between them which Andrew still doesn't perceive as real. Neil will always be a pipe dream. He doesn't deserve this. A man as cold, as unfeeling as him doesn't deserve the way Neil's affection beams upon him. It's a game he plays everyday, either Neil will disappear or he'll leave him. Andrew will be the fool, all over again, he'll be the one stupid enough to let his defences down. He doesn't know if he'll survive once it's over.   
Atleast he can control it, he thinks, as he finally tells Neil on the roof. It's his last day here before he moves to Boston, to play professionally with the Bearcats. 

  
"This is over," he says.   
Neil reacts to it like he's been hit, like the molecules in his body have hit a force stop button.   
"I thought there was no this," he says, trying to to brave or refusing to understand this is not a game anymore. Both are equally stupid, Andrew thinks.   
"There isn't. Good, you get it," Andrew says and his eyes follow the way Neil's throat moves. The way his hands curl in the pocket of his hoodie. He's angry and Andrew expects him to react so, but as always, Neil surprises him.   
"You're serious," Neil says, his eyes could rival the sun.   
"I always am," Andrew replies. He still feels nothing.   
"Funny, I thought I was the one who always ran away," and _that_ , Andrew thinks, is exactly why this has to end.   
"Okay," Neil says then and of all things, of all fucking things, that is the word which pierces Andrew's armour, which makes him feel like he's lost, stranded and there's no one around for miles.   
Neil's easy acceptance makes him realise that he wanted him to say anything else.   
As soon as he processes the thought, he shuts it out. 

He turns around and lights a cigarette, the door shuts quietly as Neil leaves and Andrew's never felt so alone. 

#

He wakes up at 7am, goes to Court and practices. He puts in effort, his indifference won't work here.   
Sometimes he goes to clubs he likes. He is sitting alone at the bar one day when someone comes up to him. He's tall, has a nice face and black hair. He looks nothing like Neil and Andrew fucking hates that. He pretends it isn't an issue when he takes him home.

His teammates give up on being friends with him after a few weeks. He fucks who he likes and doesn't think about Neil.   
Aaron, of all people, is the one to ask.   
"How's Neil?" he says, during a particularly painful dip in conversation over the phone. Bee makes them call each other atleast once every week.   
"I don't know," is Andrew's only admission.   
It takes a second for Aaron to piece it together.  
"You broke up," he says, not quite a question.   
"There was nothing to break," Andrew replies.   
"Don't lie to yourself," Aaron says and Andrew hangs up. 

#

He feels like a machine. He follows a routine every single day, as if someone else turns on a switch in the morning and shuts him down at night.   
He feels himself slipping. His hold on his life had already been precarious, now he is hanging on by a barbed wire which makes him bleed everyday.   
He doesn't have the energy to pick up any more calls from the foxes except Aaron. He expects Nicky to keep trying for a few more weeks before giving up. 

Bee knows he isn't with Neil anymore. _With_ , the word makes him feel sick.   
"Why did you tell him to leave?" she asks over the phone.   
"That chapter's closed," he clarifies, which means he isn't going to talk about it. 

He doesn't let himself ache, he feels nothing. He knows why he'd done it and that should've been enough. 

#

It's when he sees Neil's still body on the the floor of the Court, when those eyes don't open, that's when the wire cuts too deep. He feels a flutter of worry, a sharp bite of panic which seems to tear away a piece of him. 

They were playing against the Ravens, an inherently vicious match. Neil had taken a stupid risk which hadn't paid off this time. His mark had slammed him against the Court wall like a bull charging its target. Neil's head had bounced against the plexiglass, his body lost its fight and he'd crumpled to the floor.

There's a second where he believes it, where he thinks, _oh it's happened_. That he was right all along, that if Neil was dead at that moment then he was right to cut himself off. _Now it can't hurt_ , he thinks. 

The Foxes surround him, Wymack and Betsy run to where he's lying. And then of course, because Neil Josten cannot leave Andrew the fuck alone, he gets up. Andrew knows what he's telling Wymack even if he can't hear it.   
_I can play_ , he's demanding, unable to stand without Robin's help.   
But Wymack shakes his head, jabs a finger in Neil's face and then he's off the Court. The game continues.   
The Foxes win, 6-4.

#

So Andrew knows precisely how he's reached this point- an almost empty bottle of vodka rests near his feet.   
He has his shitty phone in his hand and he's staring at Neil's name. He's daring himself to press it. He rests his head against the sofa, his thoughts are a mess. He's a little drunk and so fucking weak. 

"Andrew?" Neil's voice is uncertain, the fact that he picks up the phone is surprising.  
"You're going to get yourself killed," he says. Hearing Neil's voice makes him feel warmer than the alcohol.   
"Are you drunk?" Neil asks.  
"I was wrong," he says because that's all he can think of. _Because it had hurt._  
There's silence on the other end, Neil's not saying anything and Andrew feels like he's drowning. His head is heavy, his stomach is acid. He knows he's made a mistake because Neil hangs up. 

#

He's left alone in his misery, it's the weekend, he has no distractions.   
There is a knock on the door too early in the day and Andrew immediately has a knife in his hand  
He opens it as far as the chain allows him to. 

Neil Josten stands outside his door, looking like an open flame. Andrew's hand grips the door knob so tightly it almost breaks. He slams the door shut in Neil's face.   
"If you don't open this door you'll never see me again," Neil warns, calmly.   
Andrew takes a second, presses his forehead against the door. He slides the knife back under his armband, unhooks the chain and then Neil is in his appartment.   
He's never been here before, too busy when Andrew had come to see houses here.   
He tries to view his house from Neil's eyes, then decides he doesn't care. 

Neil moves past him, careful not to touch him. His shoulders are stiff, taking deliberate steps into the small appartment. He sits on the couch, wincing because of his bruised ribs, and looks up at Andrew, still near the door.   
"So?" he asks.   
Andrew raises a brow.   
"What was that phonecall?" Neil says, harsh, painfully blunt, as usual. 

He wants to ask Neil if he's okay, if it hurt too badly, if he miss-  
It is too much, too fast. Andrew can't sort through his emotions fast enough to pick one he likes. He can't think when Neil is sitting on his couch like he _belongs_.  
He moves towards the window because he needs to stop looking at Neil.  
He opens it, takes out the pack of cigarettes in his jean pocket. His hand shakes slightly as he lights and lifts it to his mouth. Neil is watching him and Andrew is pretending he isn't. He finsihes the first one and lights another.   
He finally feels controlled enough to ask the obvious. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?"  
"You know the answer," Neil said.  
He feels like he's missed a step- like he's almost tripped and there's no surface for him to land on.  
He turns his back to Neil, every part of him is a distraction. He is dangerous, unpredictable. Andrew refuses to be enticed again. He hears footsteps scuffing against the floor.

"What do you want, Neil?" Andrew says, quiet.   
"You can't tell me you were wrong and expect me to ignore it," Neil's voice is closer, he is sitting on the arm of the sofa, facing Andrew. There's a stubborn set to his jaw, a furrow in his eyebrow.  
"Tell me you don't want me here and I'll go."

Andrew is tempted to do exactly that because he cannot do this. But he also cannot tell Neil to leave. The words are stuck in his throat, refusing to come out. He swallows them down, takes another drag of his cigarette.   
"Do you think" Andrew says softly "that I'll _love_ you someday? That you'll wake up and I won't be _this_?" he almost spits out the word. He has nothing left in him to give.

A familiar streak of self loathing slices through his stomach as he turns around.  
Neil's gaze is tearing him apart, digging for some form of emotion in Andrew's face. He flexes his fingers as if he wants to reach out and then immediately puts them in his pockets. 

"Just because you don't call it love doesn't mean it isn't," Neil answers and Andrew doesn't want to look at him anymore. 

Neil Josten and his stupid fucking mouth.

"And I want you as you are," he adds, as if it's that simple. 

And Andrew's falling, once again.

He plucks the cigarette from Andrew's hand, flicks off the ash. This gesture is so familiar, so effortless in practice, Andrew forgets why he'd given this up in the first place.

"So you can have this, if you want," Neil says, breathing in smoke, "and you can't let it be nothing."

 _Nothing_. That's all Andrew's learnt from life and he doesn't know how to ask for more. Doesn't know how to accept it when it comes knocking at his door.   
Neil looks like he's preparing himself for the worst, his scars stretch as his mouth turns down. He looks exhausted. He doesn't seem to find what he's looking for in Andrew's face. 

Andrew snatches his cigarette back. Neil's staring at his empty hands and the sight of the armbands he still wears makes Andrew's heart panic. 

"Okay," Andrew says and Neil's head snaps up. His eyes are wide, blue enough to paint the sky. 

Andrew holds out his hand because he wants to touch, Neil reaches out and takes it.   
His smile blinds. 

#

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing for this fandom after so long I missed it sm. Thank you so much for reading I hope you liked it. 
> 
> Stay safe pls xo  
> 
> 
> [black lives matter](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/)
> 
> [ Yemen crisis ](https://yemenhumancrisis.carrd.co/)


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